


a scream inside that we all try to hide (we hold on so tight, don't wanna die)

by aletterinthenameofsanity



Series: this whole damn city thinks it needs you (but not as much as I do) [4]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, SKAM (Italy), SKAM (Norway)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hunger Games Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, DESPITE SUMMARY THEY BOTH SURVIVE THE GAMES, Even and Isak are Victors of the same Games, Even and Isak are really tender and soft despite the circumstances, Even and Isak save each other, Hurt/Comfort, I promise, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, M/M, Metaphors, Prequel, as does every Evak couple but these are the originals, before the other fics in the series, hey as much as I love Nicotino Evak also has my heart, how the fuck did this get so weirdly hopeful at the end?, of sorts, okay there are some actually really cute moments inside all of the angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:20:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21788923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aletterinthenameofsanity/pseuds/aletterinthenameofsanity
Summary: Even is from District Eight, the District least likely to get kids out of the Arena, the District of seamstresses and sewers and textile workers who only know how to mend, not how to kill and slaughter. They are the seams holding clothing together, ready to be ripped apart by a sharp blade.Even, well, he’s not really like that. He’s not good at the mending. He’s better at destroying things, at ruining things, than sewing them and mending them.Being Reaped- that had been a gift, in a way. Even knew that he wasn't like the rest of his District. He was ready to kill, to destroy, to rip and ruin like Eight’s tributes never are.But then he met Isak Valtersen, and, well-Even and Isak had been the only ones of the partner-Victors not to know from the beginning that making an alliance could guarantee them both a way out. When he had made an alliance with Isak, he had thought that one of them would have to die for the other to become the Victor.But that didn’t matter. Not to Even. Because he’d known, deep down in his gut, that if the finale came down to him and Isak-Even would let Isak kill him. Easy. Easiest decision Even would ever have to make. Because Isak deserved to live, not him.
Relationships: Even Bech Næsheim & Martino Rametta, Even Bech Næsheim/Isak Valtersen, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Niccolò Fares/Martino Rametta
Series: this whole damn city thinks it needs you (but not as much as I do) [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1553239
Comments: 5
Kudos: 54





	a scream inside that we all try to hide (we hold on so tight, don't wanna die)

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from "Bird Set Free" by Sia.
> 
> Alright, so District Eight is the District that produces textiles for Panem, which isn't too important in the grand scheme of things, but does serve as the basis of Even's internal metaphors so there is that.

_We are buried in broken dreams_

_We are knee-deep without a plea_

_I don't want to know what it's like to live without you_

_Don't want to know the other side of a world without you_

_Can't live without you_

_**-Ruelle,** _ **The Other Side**

Even Bech Næsheim is from District Eight, the District least likely to get kids out of the Arena, the District of seamstresses and sewers and textile workers who only know how to mend, how to put things back together, who do not know how to kill and slaughter. They are the seams holding clothing together, ready to be ripped apart by a sharp blade or pair of scissors.

Even, well, he’s not really like that. He’s not good at the mending. He’s not good at putting things back together. He’s better at destroying things, at ruining things, than sewing them and mending them.

Being Reaped- that had been a gift, in a way. Either he would die or he would fight, and he could do both. At seventeen, Even knew that he wasn't like the rest of the tributes from his District. He was ready to kill, to destroy, to rip and ruin like Eight’s tributes never are.

But then he met Isak Valtersen, and, well-

Even and Isak had been the only ones of the partner-Victors not to know from the beginning that making an alliance could guarantee them both a way out. Even hadn’t had the guarantee that Nico and Marti, Lucas and Eliott, Joana and Cris, David and Matteo, Robbe and Sander would have. When he had made an alliance with Isak, he had thought that it would come down to him and Isak and that one of them would have to die for the other to become the Victor.

But that didn’t matter. Not to Even. Because he’d known, deep down in his gut, that if the final duel came down to him and Isak-

Even would let Isak kill him. Easy. Easiest decision Even would ever have to make. Because Isak deserved to live, not him. Not Even, useless at anything save destruction, not when Isak could have a life outside of this Arena. Not when Isak could go back home to those friends he mentioned with such fondness, back to people like Jonas and Eva and Mahdi and Sana and Magnus. The tribute to live should have been Isak, with his bright eyes and beautiful smile and kind words. He should be the one to make it out, to make himself a life. He should be the one to be able to go home.

Even had known that at the moment where it counted, he would be just like the rest of his District’s tributes. He would lie down and be rent apart, his seams split and ripped.

Just for Isak. Only for Isak. Because from that first glance before the tribute parade, Even had only ever been Isak’s, despite the darkness in his heart.

But then came the announcement at the Feast, two weeks into the Games, with six of the tributes left, and Even’s world had turned upside down.

(Even, to this day, still doesn’t know how he’d forgotten that they were in a Quarter Quell. That in the envelope that the President had read off before the Reaping, he’d said that this year’s twist would be announced _during_ the Games rather than before it. How had Even forgotten?)

When the announcement had been made, Isak and Even had both turned in their cave and locked eyes with each others, something relaxing in their shoulders, something hopeful breaking in their eyes.

“You and me to the end, right?” Isak had asked, the first one of them to speak, and Even nods, seeing a life spilling out in front of him for the first time since he entered the Games. A life where he and Isak, each with one kill under their belt already, would be able to make it out together. A life where they can make each other sandwiches all the time, not just when they get a gift parachute, where they can talk about musicians and laugh and forget about the children they’ve had to kill.

Even nods, as if there was ever any doubt. “You and me to the end,” he says, and he means it with every ounce of his destructive heart.

-

Then they’d won, and they’d gotten to the Capitol, and they’d been told-

Well, they’d been told that they weren’t allowed to go home.

Even had just locked eyes with Milan, the most recent Victor, who’d come from Nine and survived by faking being weak, hiding for most of his Games, and then viciously stabbing the girl from Two in the throat with a spear he’d made out of part of an abandoned pylon. Milan had given him a rueful look and Even had resolved to just be there for Isak, to do whatever he could to make things better for Isak.

Isak, who had taken it worse than Even, all shaking hands and tears in the eyes and punching the punching bag they had in their apartment. He’d fallen apart in Even’s arms, sobbing and screaming about never getting to see his friends back home again, not getting to be there for Eva and Jonas’ wedding, not getting to talk to Sana again, not getting to go _home_.

And Even had held him close, shared a bed with him, helped him to the point where he could function within their apartment as well as keep up the facade when they're out in the Capitol.

Their apartment is as close to _home_ as Isak will get in the Capitol, and Even puts every effort possible into making Isak feel safe and comfortable here. He brings touches of District Seven into the apartment with potted plants and green rugs, wooden furniture and bread baked the same way they do in Seven, coarse and seed-pocked.

They're Victors- their winnings cover everything. Expense isn't an issue, for the first time in Even's life- all that matters is making Isak feel okay.

The first time that Isak enters their apartment after a gala and smiles, loose and free, a weight lifts from Even's chest. When Isak hugs him in thanks, Even feels himself settling, a little, almost like his destructive hands have somehow sewn some part of Isak together.

-

Even’s willing to sacrifice his own life. He has been since the moment he met Isak, from the moment he saw the boy from Seven by the chariots at the tribute parade, talking to the blond girl who was his District partner with that small smile on his lips.

So when Even is told that one of them will have to give their body to the Capitol, that either he or Isak will have to whore themselves out to the Capitolites, that if he refuses to Isak could get pressed into it-

And, well, it’s the easiest decision he’s made. Sacrificing himself for Isak will always be the easiest decision he’s ever had to make.

-

Even’s stylist dresses him in clothing that shows off his figure, shows off his skin, seams placed specifically to make his body more appealing to the Capitolites around him, fabric of a higher quality than anything that would have been sewn or woven in his own District.

They gel his hair and put him in these clothes and he is made into something that isn’t him, isn’t the killer who was in that Arena with Isak, isn’t the boy who holds Isak through nightmares at night and laughs with him over stupid Capitol TV shows in the daytime. He isn’t the Victor with the talent for filmmaking, isn’t the boy who stared at the Reaping and saw an escape from a life choking on factory smog.

He’s just a toy of the Capitol, sewn into a suit that shows off far too much, unable to do anything but smile and look pretty and die, a little, inside.

When he's in those beds, Even tries to make his mind go numb. He thinks of thread counts and stitch patterns, pictures tailoring suits just like the one that this Capitolite has just pulled off of him. He thinks of mechanics and assembly lines and factory workers, assembling clothing from strips of cloth.

Even’s seams are ripping. He’s stretching himself too thin. But he doesn’t care. He can’t bring himself to care. Not when he is covering Isak, keeping the scissors from slicing him apart.

Even lays in that Capitol bed and doesn't regret a damn thing, because Isak's in their bed back in their apartment, safe and alive and not being broken. He is as whole as any Victor could be.

-

Then the Victory Tour comes, and Even doesn't have to sleep with Capitolites for a couple of weeks, and instead of dreading the return he resolves to just enjoy the feeling of relief from being away from the Capitol. Even the guilt of going through the Districts of dead tributes can't ruin this, not for him.

But it's here, on their Tour, that Isak finds out, when the truth comes spilling out from the unassuming mouth of Even's escort as she is talking aloud, organizing their schedules for the next few weeks.

Isak turns to Even, eyes wide in askance after Even's appointment with Nikolai Magnusson is mentioned. Nikolai Magnusson is famous in the Capitol for his playboy attitude and his less than savory attitude towards Victors. He's been caught in scandals several times with his hands down the pants of different Victors, Victors that Even's well-aware of being in situations similar to his.

Even doesn't answer the question here, in front of the escorts, instead just tilting his head in a way that says that he'll answer the question later. Isak's lips purse as if he doesn't like this answer, but he doesn't ask anything now so Even at least has this one small reprieve, for whatever it's worth.

But once they're in their room on the train after dinner, their room with the bed that they share just like in their Capitol apartment (Isak's nightmares have abated a little, but they've never stopped, and cuddling with Even seems to be the only thing that soothes it), Isak turns to him.

"Why do you have an appointment with Nikolai Magnusson the night we get back to the Capitol?" Isak asks, tone suspicious and pleading at once.

"Just the usual," Even says with a shrug, attempting to make this conversation normal again. He leans against the wall of their room, hands in the pockets of his Capitol jacket, trying to keep his hands from shaking. "Nothing big."

Isak's expression hardens. "Let me rephrase that," he says with the same hard tone he used against the Careers he stood up to in the training center. " _What_ the fuck were you doing there?"

The words come out of Even's mouth like an arrow fired by a Career, like the sharpest pair of shears slicing through thread: "I let him fuck me."

Isak's expression crumples, his voice going fragile and weak. "You what?"

"President's orders. One of the Victors from our Games- they wanted one of us to to be a whore. And, well-" Even gestures with his right hand. What he's gesturing too, he's not entirely sure.

"Wait a minute," Isak says, voice cracking just a little, and in this moment, with him dressed only in a simple sleep shirt and shorts, no fancy Capitol garments on him, Even sees the fifteen-year-old boy with the wide eyes, hands shaking almost imperceptibly after he killed his first tribute. Isak's hands are trembling, now, his eyes wide and his expression half-broken. "What they've been making you do- for awhile- you did it so that it wouldn't happen to _me_?"

Even nods. “I couldn’t let them ruin you,” he says simply, trying to explain, trying to somehow put into words everything that he’s been justifying for the past few months, trying to make Isak understand. “I did this so that you wouldn’t be destroyed.”

Isak steps forward and puts a hand on Even's cheek, touches him like he’s still something good, still something worth something. “Do you think they’re ruined you?” Isak asks like the very idea makes his heart break.

Even’s throat goes dry as he looks right into the eyes of the boy he would give everything for, the boy he was willing to die for, the boy he willing went into the beds of Capitolites for. “I don’t know,” he says, honestly, “All I know is that I can’t bear it if they got a hand on you. I couldn’t bear if they broke you.”

Isak leans in, pressing their foreheads against each other, holding Even’s face like something as precious as a silver gift parachute in the Games. “You are not broken, Even Bech Næsheim,” he says, voice firm in a way that Even wishes he could be. “I am here for you. You are not alone, okay?” Even closes his eyes as Isak’s words soak in, filtering over him, stitching the holes in him back together. “We’re a team. We always will be.”

Then, gently, Even feels Isak’s lips press against his. He opens his eyes to find Isak holding his face in careful, gentle hands, giving Even the most tender of kisses.

“Are you sure you want-?” Even starts to ask, a savage sort of hope rising up in chest, ready to be dashed by Isak. Ready to be broken by this boy he knows he loves, no matter how much that has broken him.

Isak nods, eyes bright. “Of course I am,” he says, firm like his voice was when he accepted Even’s offer of an alliance, three days into the Games.

So Even leans back in, and they are kissing again, and in this moment, some of Even’s wounds have been stitched back together.

-

Even and Isak sleep together for the first time a few weeks after their Victory Tour ends, on a night when Even doesn't have an appointment with any Capitolites.

Isak's so tender, compared to the Capitolites. He is careful and gentle and almost hesitant, at times, making sure that Even's okay with whatever he's doing at all times, and though Even tells him that it's all good, that he loves whatever Isak wants to do, it still means a lot- that Isak cares, that he's asking beforehand, that he's making sure that _Even's_ comfortable with everything that they do.

Even feels like he's being sewn back together under Isak's touch, gentle in the way a killer's shouldn't be. With every kiss down his face, his neck, his chest, every worshipping, tender touch, Even feels like Isak is stitching something together in a way that Even never could.

They lie in bed together, afterwards, and Isak leans over and kisses Even, gentle and soft and loving as he could possibly be, and Even feels loved. He feels _wanted_ , not just for his status as a Victor, as an object of desire, but as a person. He's not some fucktoy to Isak- Isak genuinely cares about him and wants him, as a lover and a partner and an ally through life.

That boy that Even fell in love with, that first day of training, who he asked for an alliance with knowing that he'd do anything to see that boy live- after Even has protected him for months, that boy is saving him right back, right now.

-

The next year, they’d been prepared to watch some other kid become a Victor. For the one time Quarter Quell rules to revert back to normal, to watch another Milan or Eskild or Eve or Mika to come out.

But then the President gets up onstage in the Capitol and he announces that-

Once again, there will be two Victors. Still different Districts, still that kill requirement, but two Victors. Another set of partners, linked by murder and death and nightmares.

Even thinks that he and Isak are more horrified of the President’s announcement than they were of the one that trapped them in the Capitol last year, or, at least, Even is. He knows what awaits those kids, those partner-Victors, a guarantee of prostitution that was more of a question for previous Victors.

Even hasn’t broken down before now. He’s been calm and collected as possible, holding Isak through his nightmares, suffering in silence through his trips to the beds of Capitolites. He's been fine as possible, keeping himself from collapsing into pieces.

But tonight, after the announcement that they’re going to have more partner-Victors, that some other kid is going to be conscripted into what Even’s currently having to do, that they weren’t a one time accident but the start of a vicious cycle, Even finds himself waking up screaming from nightmares of their Games, of the blood gurgling from the throat of the twelve-year-old he’d killed in the early moments of the Games, of the Career that Isak had broken the neck of with a self-fashioned bat. Isak ends up holding him that night, smoothing back sweat-matted hair and whispering words of comfort into Even’s skin as Even tries to imagine looking one of those Victors in the eyes and knowing that they're going through the exact same thing as him.

-

They’ve gotten a reprieve from Mentoring their first year on the job as partner-Victors. Some Capitol excuse, something to cover up the fact that Even’s spending his time during the Games in Capitolite beds, Even doesn’t know. All he knows is that when he gets back to the apartment on the final night of the Games, he finds Isak curled up on their couch, watching as the boy from Four saves his ally- the boy from Twelve- from his own District partner by stabbing the girl from Four in the back. The girl's body falls to the ground and the boy from Four rushes forward to check on the boy from Twelve as the final cannon booms, signalling the end of the 76th Games.

“They’re so young,” Even says, voice breaking as he looks at the boy from Four and the boy from Twelve, staring at each over the dead body of the boy from Four’s District partner. They’re both breathing hard as the announcement booms across the Arena, declaring them Victors, and there's a cut dripping blood on the boy from Twelve's face and the boy from Four is limping but their eyes are still fixed on each other and Even knows, deep in his soul, that those two boys are in as deep as he and Isak are.

“They’re as old as we are,” Isak says about the two sixteen-year-olds that have just entered into the same monstrous second Arena that he and Isak are currently living in.

“Which one do you think is...?” Even asks Isak, voice cracking, voice unable to stay strong, and Isak pulls him down on the couch and into a hug, letting Even’s head fall on his shoulder.

“I don’t know,” Isak says, so strong and comforting and calm, far calmer than a sixteen-year-old ever should have to be, and Even tucks his face into Isak's shoulder, letting Isak hold him close. He folds into Isak as Isak kisses his forehead, pushing the bad thoughts away, if only for a little while.

"They're going to make it through," Isak whispers into Even's hair, and Even remembers the boy who sobbed and screamed and fought the night that they were told that they were never going to get to escape. He remembers how he'd had no idea how Isak would get through it, only the bone-deep need to help Isak recover and stay alive.

And he had. Isak had survived, despite the pain, despite the homesickness, despite the captivity. He'd made it through. He's still making it through. He's helping Even make it through, now that Even's the one breaking down.

And maybe, just maybe, those boys, those new Victors- they can make it through, too. They will break, and they will be destroyed, but maybe they'll survive. Maybe the vibrant boy from Four and the quiet boy from Twelve will be able to make themselves something resembling a home in their Capitol cage.

Even curls into Isak and he hopes for so much for these two boys that it _aches_.

-

When Nico and Marti leave the stage at their Victors’ Interview, smiles plastered wide and suits tailored to fit each of their "personas" (a red suit with a dark blue shirt underneath for Nico, dashing and vibrant like any Volunteer from Four should be, with a dark grey suit and dark blue shirt for Marti, reflecting the ashes of Twelve and his seemingly 'boring' personality), they meet Isak and Even backstage, who greet them as the last Victors of the Games.

“Congratulations on your Victory,” Isak says in a voice that barely manages to make it not sound like a punishment.

Nico smiles. "Thanks," he says, something dark flashing through his eyes despite the smile on his lips, and Even looks Nico straight in the eye and he knows which one of them is his personal successor.

Marti's gaze flicks across all of them, steady and searching and calculating, as if he's determining a judgement of sorts. From both their interview and the Games itself, Even can tell that Marti's a bit quieter than Nico is, a bit less ready to speak. He's got more of a coolly intelligent air about him, a sort of quiet cunning that certainly showed itself in his traps. "You as well," he says eventually, and Even smiles his public smile, the cool one that he just itches to drop in front of these two boys who understand Isak and Even better than anyone else in Panem does.

-

Nico disappears halfway through the evening and Even knows where he's gone. He doesn't know who he's gone to specifically, but he knows what he's doing while he's there.

From the way that Marti’s mouth purses, something concerned flickering through his eyes, Even knows that he knows where Nico is going. It seems like Nico was honest with Marti far before Even was with Isak, and thank goodness for it.

"Listen," Even says, hiding his words behind a glass of champagne and a charming smile. "It's going to be okay, as long as you can make it okay."

Marti's gaze searches Even's face as if searching for an answer. "How do I make it okay?"

Even swallows and looks at Isak, who's standing across the room smiling and talking to some Capitolites as if he actually enjoys talking to them. Though the Capitol often enjoy his "grumpy" persona, he knows where to toe the line. "You hold him close," Even says quietly, making sure that no Capitolites are listening in. "You listen to him and support him." Even is very careful with his next words, knowing that he's not supposed to let Capitolites know about the inner workings of his and Isak's relationship, and probably should be doing the same with Nico and Marti's. "And if you...care about him, then you make sure he knows that."

Marti's expression cracks, only for a moment, and Even can see the sheer emotion in his eyes. The fear of the Capitol and everything that will happen to Nico, the grief over what's happening to the boy he cares about, and the determination to help him. "I'll make sure he does," Marti says, looking down at the handwoven bracelet on his wrist that seems strange and out of place against his Capitol suit jacket, and there's something that aches in his voice, some promise that is both sincere and painful at the same time.

"Then you should be good," Even says, even if "good" comes with qualifiers, even if "good" is something that will have to be worked to, over and over, each day taken by itself, hour by hour, minute by minute.

Marti glances up at him. "Thank you," he says, and Even just smiles a smile as painful as any he's ever attempted.

"No problem," he says, knocking back the last of his glass, because even if it hurts, this is the one thing in the Capitol that really isn't a problem. In fact, giving these boys advice, somehow alleviating their troubles in any way that he can, helps him, if he's being honest. It lifts something in his heart, pushing him through the appointment he has waiting for him not even half and hour later. It pushes him to his and Isak's bed, that night, gives him peaceful dreams for the first time since the President announced the continuation of the partner-Victors rule.

Because somewhere, deep in the Capitol, two boys are holding each other just like Isak and Even, comforting each other through the nightmares and the appointments and the Capitol pressures. And despite everything, despite the agony and the forced sex and everything else, they have each other.

And for Even, that's enough.

-

Even’s not good at mending things. He still isn’t. He’s good at destroying them, at ruining them, at ripping the seams of well-sewn things apart.

So when Eskild, Seven’s last Victor before Isak, contacts him, asking if he would be willing to use what he’s learned in the Capitol’s beds to foment Revolution, Even thinks of Isak, the boy he loves. He thinks of Nico, from Four, forced into the same beds as Even. He thinks of Marti, from Twelve, forced to watch as his partner is broken, just like Isak.

And he doesn’t hesitate in his response.

Even’s good at destroying things. So why not try to turn his talent on the Capitol itself?

**Author's Note:**

> If you guys liked, please feel free to leave comments! They are the lifeblood of the writer, after all, and they are very appreciated. Hope you guys enjoyed.


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